My husband shoved me, shattering the bathroom mirror. His mother sneered, “Clean up this disgusting mess.” But as I fell, my husband roared, “What’s in your pocket?!” The red LED of my federal distress fob pulsed. Denied the third click, I threw myself onto the broken glass, and…
Vance let out a short, hollow bark of laughter. He accepted the glass from his father, taking a long, arrogant pull of the bourbon. He was completely unbothered, utterly devoid of remorse, while I pressed my back against the freezing wall, tasting copper in my mouth.
It was precisely in that suffocating, terrifying moment continue reading …
